Eve and Spring Water Medicine

Eve reclines on the bed pausing whatever she is doing every few minutes to cough or blow her nose. She had expected to be clearly on the mend by now but today is the worst she has felt since waking with a sore throat 5 days ago. She wonders if her two friends she saw last Saturday who also woke on Monday with sore throats are still sick as well. 

Historically Eve hasn’t especially minded being sick with a cold. Obviously she prefers feeling healthy, breathing well and feeling energetic enough to do whatever she wants to do. But feeling mildly under the weather for a few days does not make her any less grateful and appreciative of being alive. In fact when she is sick she feels extra grateful that thus far in her life she has mostly been relatively fit and healthy.

But this afternoon she feels mildly concerned about her symptoms that have been getting worse, not better. She wonders if she has a flu or Covid, not ‘just’ a cold. Her preferred treatment is rest, taking extra supplements and drinking lots of fluids, all of which she is doing, but being in a small village with no pharmacy or doctor nearby in this foreign country does make her slightly uneasy. She tries not to dwell on the various ‘what if..’ thoughts that arise from time to time. She also tries not to worry about what they will do if Manny also gets sick. He has been the trusty driver and Eve does not want to have to drive in this land of small roads and unpredictable fast and aggressive drivers. So she prays that she will feel better soon and Manny will stay healthy, for whatever that’s worth.

The good news is she is sick in a beautiful place where they are staying for 4 nights in a clean, comfortable apartment with a wall of sliding glass doors that look out upon a green valley and rocky rugged green and tan mountains, with orange roofed houses in the foreground. It’s not quite as soothing as a sea view but comes pretty close. True, there are more human-generated sounds here than in some other villages where she has stayed but the sound of occasional passing trains across the valley, and saws and hammering at various nearby houses does not diminish Eve’s pleasure in being here. She feels far (she IS far) from her own country and city where crime is rampant and few people know how to make cheese, butcher a pig or make their own wine from grapes they have grown. Every time she visits this village she wonders what changes she will notice next time she comes. This year she was disappointed by the new ultra bright blaring street lights that have been added on the little road below this house on the hill. The lights seem about 10 times brighter than they need to be, but nobody consulted her when they made their decision.

Even though her host, who grew up here as did several generations before him, says the spring water trickling from a pipe in the yard is excellent she is a little hesitant to try it. Few places in America have spring water that is fit for drinking anymore, so it’s hard to believe it is ok here. But maybe later she will walk down the hill with an empty bottle and fill it up. Maybe the water is exactly what she needs to speed along her healing process?

She sighs, breathes deeply and exhales long and fully, then without deciding to, she gets up from the bed, fetches an empty bottle, puts on her shoes. She minds her step as she walks down the stone steps and steep path to the concrete area where the spring water emerges from a pipe protected by a little altar-like, miniature, carved stone ‘house’. Nobody is around except for two kittens with very green eyes. They rub themselves against her legs then sit on a step and watch her. 

When Eve squats down in front of the water trickling steadily from the pipe she is surprised by the musical resonant sounds the water makes when flowing inside the pipe before it emerges into the light.  The haunting beautiful sound reminds her a little bit of the Sea Organ in Zadar. She imagines the water saying, ‘I’m coming! I’m coming!’ as it flows freely and generously out into the daylight. 

She cups her hands under the trickling water feeling its cold wetness. Any time she brings mindfulness to  washing herself or the dishes,  or to drinking water, she is confounded by water’s existence, and touched to her core by its essential life-giving properties. There is nothing she drinks that satisfies her more than pure clean water. Reaching for the glass of water she keeps by her bed every night and taking a sip in the dark is one of her greatest pleasures. 

As Eve holds her hands under the water she thanks the Earth, the Universe, God, and the water itself for this moment and this gift. The young cats look at her in knowing agreement. She cups her hands again and fills them with water and offers it to the cats. Both take a quick sip then resume watching her. Next Eve cups her hands again and splashes her face with the water, then cups them again and takes a sip herself. She has no words to describe the taste of water. There is almost an absence of taste, just pure liquid wetness. She feels the cool water flow down her sore throat and into her stomach. She swallows it as if it is the best healing medicine anyone could give her. She takes a few more sips then fills her bottle, says thank you again and slowly walks back up the hill. As she passes the hammock hanging below the grape arbor she feels suddenly like she must lie down there. She climbs into the soft cradle and places the bottle of cool water on her chest. The cats have followed her and choose places nearby in the sun  and lie down. Before Eve has time to contemplate the grape leaves above her she falls into a deep sleep. 

When she wakes she feels  like she has slept for hours but her watch confirms she only slept for twenty minutes. She lingers, enjoying the feeling of her body being suspended by the hammock then carefully climbs out and steps onto the grass. The kittens are gone. 

As she walks the rest of the way up the hill to her apartment her legs feel lighter. When she swallows she feels only the slightest remnant of pain in her throat. Her head feels clearer than it has felt in weeks. She is grateful but not surprised to be feeling so much better.